The closing paragraph of that paper comes across the years a prophecy and prayer for all mankind:
“As the evening hours draw near, the bugle calls of the eternal years sound clearer to my understanding than when drowned in the hiss of musketry and the roar of cannon. By memory of battle-fields and prophecy of coming events, I declare the hope that the present generation may witness the disbandment of standing armies, the reign of natural justice, the ushering in of the brotherhood of man. If I could recall one hour of my distant but glorious command, I would say, on the eve of battle with a foreign foe, “Little children, love one another.”
LONGSTREET ON THE FIELDS OF MEXICO[F]
CHAPTER I
THE WINNING OF OUR WESTERN EMPIRE
Mexico will always be a land of romance. Her ruins are yet fragrant with memories of the mighty plans of Louis Napoleon.
After an absence of fifty years, General Longstreet revisited Mexico in the eventful summer of 1898, leisurely passing over some of the scenes of his early military experiences. Half a century had stolen away, yet architecturally he found Mexico but little changed. Few of the old landmarks were effaced. Modern ideas and inventions have been encouraged and do prevail in our sister republic, but the dream-like strangeness of its civilization is still all-pervading. Mexico is not unlike Egypt in some respects. Everywhere is the poetry of a past age. Egypt has its sphinx and the pyramids to illustrate a mysterious past; in Mexico we find the temples of the Aztecs and the monuments of their cruel conquerors. The Montezumas have left the impress of their race and civilization on every hand. To the northern visitor Mexico will always be the land of the Aztecs, worshippers of the sun.
To me the battle-fields of 1846–47 were of supreme interest. They are to most Americans doubtless the chief magnet of attraction. But the eye of an active participant in those glorious achievements of American arms sees more as it sweeps over the valley of Mexico than is comprehensible to the unprofessional casual observer. It was my great privilege—to-day a cherished memory—to go over the fields that stretch away from Chapultepec with a war-worn soldier who fifty years earlier had there learned his first lessons in real warfare.
Mexico will always be a land of romance. Her civilization stands apart. Her ruins are yet fragrant with memories of the mighty plans of Louis Napoleon. From the ill-fated Maximilian empire to our own war with Mexico seems but a step back, and yet between the steps great history has been written.